Brendan Chilcutt wants to preserve the aural history of technology . Since 2012 , he ’s been recording and uploading the clicking , whirring , and beeping sounds of out-of-date devices to a site calledthe Museum of Endangered Sounds . It ’s a fascinating task : While most museums maintain physical artifact , Chilcutt is more interested in keep experiences — what it felt ( or sound ) like to use those equipment . Chilcutt ’s Museum calls attention to the fact that as engineering exchange , our sensory experience of the world around us changes too , in near - imperceptible ways .
" suppose a world where we never again hear the symphonic startup of a Windows 95 motorcar . Imagine generations of nestling unacquainted with the chattering of angels lodge deeply within the niche of an old cathode beam of light tube TV , ” Chilcutt writes . “ And when the intact world has acquire devices with sleek , mute touch interfaces , where will we turn for the auditory sensation of fingers chance on QWERTY keypads ? assure me that . And distinguish me : Who will make for my GameBoy when I ’m gone ? ”
Though the wakeless samples on video display at the Museum of Endangered Sounds date back to the early twentieth 100 ( for example , there are circular earphone , typewriters , and record players to be heard ) , it seems like the most attention has been pay to the 1980s and ' 90s . There ’s some system of logic to that determination : engineering changed so rapidly during that epoch that many of its sounds feel truly ephemeral . Most of us belike still remember the sound of connecting to a telephone dial - up net service , but how many recall the upbeat composition music of Microsoft Encarta ’s MindMaze game or can still hum Nokia ’s once - iconic first ring tone ? Thanks to Chilcutt , they ’re readily useable once again .
